


Tearing, and mending

by Symone_Nicole



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst?, Cheating, I really suck at summaries, I really suck at tagging, I wrote this in under an hour, M/M, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 09:44:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7503538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Symone_Nicole/pseuds/Symone_Nicole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Midorima returns to his home, which is shared with his male lover, and he is left with displeasing news and strong evidence that could destroy their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tearing, and mending

**Author's Note:**

> Hello.  
> This summer has been very unexpected, and like with all things you can never make plans for the unexpected. I was very sick for a good two weeks; however, I am healthy now. Despite my good health at the moment, events that could not be on hold kept occurring which kept me from being able to sit down and pay attention to my writing. I want to apologize for the long delay in updates, and I hope that you enjoy this little piece that I wrote pretty, and insanely quickly, which means that there is bound to be some mistakes(which I will fix on a later date.) I plan to get back on the swings of things, and hopefully I will be making plenty of updates this weekend.   
> I hope you enjoy this short work of mine, which honestly I do not know how I feel about it.

At the end of the quiet street there is a house on the corner--it is not the same house that has always been sitting on that corner.  The previous house on the corner used to sit there peacefully, and quietly.  Couples have walked hand in hand around that corner, couples who value privacy have often kissed near the house of the corner; which is due the width of the house that it protects all lovers, the same house on the corner that children spread rumours and myths of a witch living inside, and it was the same house on that corner which was the first westernized house to be built on this street.  As time went by the house on the street aged, and the new owners who bought the old home had to make repairs.  However, there came a day when a couple of new owners came looking to buy this very same house on the corner, but insteading of repairing it the couple decided to tear it down to build it anew.  

 

The community was saddened to see the old house on the corner be torn down because of the memories that they have shared with that old house on the corner.  However, the new couple moving into the brand new house slowly was able to get their new neighbors to warm up to them.  The new couple moving in the house told the community that they are roommates; however, one of the owners was easily spotted by all the teen girls and boys as Kise Ryouta, a popular model.  Kise explained to his young, and very excited fans, that he was moving in with an old friend.  Kise Ryouta could have labeled their relationships in any light of his choice, but his roommate denied their labeled relationship.  The two could never be simply just friends, and they will never be simply friends; which it is hard to keep a lover bound by the ties of friendship.

 

At the end of the quiet street there is a brand new house on the corner--an oasis for a pair of lovers.  The sun has fallen, and the moon graces the night suns with its presence as its beam shines on all of the night owls.  All the lights of the brand new house on the corner are turned off as if no one is home or the couple has already retired for the evening.  However, pass the solid walls, and looking through the windows submerged in darkness there is a single lamp lit, which is shining very dimly.  The lamp rests on an mahogany end table, which is covered by old mail but brand new magazines.  Next to the mahogany end table there is a deep, dark red arm chair, and on the arm of the chair rest long covered arms.  Flesh peeks through the end of the sleeve of the coat, and a small silver bracelet, with a date neatly inscribed,  hangs loosely on the wrist.  Long fingers tug on the bracelet, and a slow thumb rubs cautiously on the inscribed dated, as if checking it was still there.  Another hand holds a magazine in place as swift eyes read the black typed letters inside; however, both hands relaxed, and fingers fall from the silver bracelet as the magazine is falling to land on the floor.  

 

As the magazine falls down to the wooden floors, the pages flip madly until the cover is facing upwards as the back of the magazine lands on the ground.  The cover on the magazine displays Kise Ryouta with a slightly famous female model, and he is kissing her on the nape of her neck as he holds the door open for her--the door that leads her inside of his home--their home.   On the covers of the magazines that are across the mahogany end table display more pictures of Kise Ryouta, who is publicly displaying his affection for the same female model. 

 

Long legs, covered in black pants, uncross and the mate of a pair of black leather shoes taps on the wooden floors, which causes the small sound to echo slightly in the quiet house.  Slowly the knees begin to unbend as the creases in the pants slightly move from the startling action, a hand reaches up and pulls down slightly on the tie that was tightening around the male's neck, and the same hand travels down underneath the suit jacket.  Slowly the black leather shoes move across the wooden floors, the small sounds echoing once again in the quiet house; however, the sound from the shoes were muffled as they crossed across tatami flooring.  The tatami flooring is clean, the pine colored cushions are neatly in their place; however, the mahogany table is a complete chaos.  An empty bottle of Dom Perignon, a variety of snacks, and two empty wine glasses are clatter around the small table. 

 

The hand reaches slowly for one of the empty wine glasses, and slowly raises it up to his face--his long green eye lashes are almost touching the frame of his glasses as he inspects the wine glass.  The bright green iris meet the bright red mark of the lipstick stain left at the top of the glass--the light in the green eyes dimmed as the wine glass slowly falls on the tatami flooring.  Small droplets of Dom Perignon  jump out of the glass as a dark shadow casts over the lipstick mark left on the wine bottle.

 

The black shoes travel once again through the quiet, dark house and after leaving the tatami flooring, the path the shoes travel are echoed once again.  However, the shoes stop in front of a close door, and the tip of the shoe is nudging against the frame door as if forcing the owner to go in the room.  A hand slowly, cautiously turns the knob and opens the door, which creaks eerily as the moonlight peers the  opening of the door.  Beyond the door is a massive room, two large dressers place near each other, a massive window with opened curtains, a pair of end tables which is placed on side of the massive bed, and a massive westernized bed with sheets that look as if the owner rushed in cleaning up the bedroom.  The shoes slowly step in the room as they look up at the wall covered with decorations, and photos depicting unforgettable memories.  They walk towards the open window; however, they halt near the bed when an audible crunch echo softly in the room.  The shoe lifts up and sees the open condom wrapper lying shamelessly on the floor; however, it was not the only condom left carelessly on the floor.  Quick hands grab the ends of the sheets, and tosses them on the floor; on the tan sheets are stains left from semen and sweat, and the smell of sex slowly, but steadily, fills the room. The dull green iris look down at the dirtied bed, and he stands there with his pupils narrowing as he inspects the evidence placed before him.  

 

His hand lifts up to his face; however, his fingers pull away when they touch the wet, and cold tears. His head snaps up, and looks straights into the mirror.  The mirror reflects his shattered, broken spirit--his green hair is a tousled mess, his eyes are slowly turning red, and regardless of how fast his fingers wipe away the evidence of his sadness--it is not fast enough to stop the fleeting tears.  The soft, long fingers rub on the slightly swollen eyelids as a bright series of light shines through the open window, and he tears his eyes away from the reflection as he approaches the window.  Lifeless green eyes look down and see a swarm of reporters crowd around his home as his lover opens the door of their home for the same female.  The last tear falls down from his left eye as he turns around from the window, and once he finally walks out the bedroom that tear drips down from his chin. 

 

Slowly the same leather shoes travel the same path, but this time they do not make a sound as they tread carefully.  Burning red ears can hear the audible pleas of begging for pleasure from the voice of the female model whose voice makes the offended ears ring violently.  The females pleas were rejected sternly, and repeatedly;however, it did not relax the furrow brows nor the cold glare.  The more the shoes travel in its home thus more the ear could hear of the talks of last night.  The shoes began to descend down the wooden stairs, and the action echoed throughout the home which cause the pair to stop their talk. 

 

Honey colored eyes look up happily up at the man descending down the stairs; however, his loving gaze is met with a brutal grimace filled with disgust. The green venomous iris stare down his lover, and the intruder of their love nest.  Kise Ryouta quickly moves past the female, and walk straight towards his lover with open arms.

 

“You’re home early, Shin--”

 

Midorima shoves him, “move,” he responds cold, and detached. 

 

Kise reaches out again for his lover, “Shin--”

 

The intruding hand is batted away roughly, “do not touch me with your filthy hands,” Midorima barks as he deathly glares at his lover. “And I do not know why you are talking to me so familiarly.” 

 

Kise’s eyebrows lower, and he pouts, but suddenly his eyes widen, “It isn’t what you think, Shin--Midorimacchi,” Kise tries to explain desperately as he chases after his fleeing lover. 

 

Midorima’s hand reaches out for his black suitcase, and extends the handle, “I could care less about your nightly activities.”

 

“I don’t wanna intrude--”

 

“You have already intruded,” Midorima snaps back as he glares at the unwanted female guest.  Midorima turns his back to the female and to Kise; he walks towards the front door as he ignores the words that easily fall from his mouth. 

 

“Midorimacchi… we’ve talked about this--”

 

“Yes, I am well aware!” Midorima fumes as he turns around and glares at his lover, “However, you simply cannot expect me to believe that this,” he motions between the two of them, “is not what I expect is going on--do you think I am just some idiot?! You are the one who brought this girl into our home--into our bed!”

 

“Shin--” Kise reaches out once more, but his touch is once again rejected.

 

“I told you not to touch me!”

 

“Will you just sit down, and listen to me?” Kise begs desperately.

 

“Just go and die.”

 

“Where are you going?” Kise demands as he watches Midorima reach out for knob of the door.

 

Midorima does not respond as he opens the door, and there are still a few reporters standing outside;however, there excitement on their face drops once they realize it is the doctor who is leaving the home.  It was not too long before they were buzzing again as they watch Kise storm out of his home, and he attempts desperately to make his way to his fleeing love; however, the paparazzi drowns him with their questions, and their flashing cameras.  Kise stands there helplessly as he half assedly answered their questions as he keeps attempting to move through the crowd, and failing desperately to catch up to the fleeing Midorima. 

 

Midorima found himself fleeing, travelling in a direction unknown to him;however, he did not care about where his path lead him, but of the distance between him and Kise Ryouta.  He roamed aimlessly as a lifeless doll seeking for his purpose in life, and he walked silently in the night as death itself was escorting him to his destination.  It was not long before a chariot awaited him; however, oblivious of the black chariot and the talkative driver, who shined brightly in the night.  The talkative driver was very concern for the doctor who has travelled so far on foot alone, and throws an endless stream of questions at Midorima that remained unanswered.  After a few minutes of being ignored the talkative driver quickly gave up on trying to communicate with the lifeless doll as he escorted Midorima inside his black Chariot--the talkative driver took him away to a far, far away place. 

 

His blue eyes looked desperately into Midorima’s green iris as he towels dries his hair as if the doctor was his personal doll that needed to be taken care of by him.  They sit upon a vast bed, which screams comfort, warmth, and most importantly a place of refuge.  The room is sparking bright, such brightness that not even darkness would dare to enter the room in scare of the bright, and unwavering light.  Hesitant fingers reach out slowly towards Midorima’s face, and as the cautious thumb slowly moves across Midorima’s lower lip, slowly and delicately as if he was handling a piece of glass.  Midorima glances at the sudden touch on his lip,and at first he moved away from the touch until he spotted the nude left wrist of the talkative driver.  However, Midorima sat still as his eyes traveled up the nude arm, towards the supporting shoulder, to the slender neck, to the strong jawline, and finally looking at his blue eyes.  The blue eyes dance with joy as they were being acknowledge for first time, and a soft smile spread across his face as his left traveled reached back and lightly held the back of his head.

 

“Shin-chan,” he cried undeniably happy, “I am so glad you are here--with me, Shin-chan!”

 

Midorima just stares at the man before he slowly starts to turn his head; however, Takao Kazunari is quick and his left hand carefully cradles Midorima’s cheek as he slowly turn his head to face him once more.  “Look at me, Shin-chan,” he states as his face moves closer to the face he holds, “look only at me.”  

 

Midorima looks at Takao--he looks past Takao with his dull green eyes, and he remains still as Takao closes the distance between the two.  “I love you, Shin-chan.  Stay with me and become mine.” Takao huskily whispers in his ear as he tenderly moves his hand into Midorima’s hair. 

 

With his unwavering warmth he split Midorima into two, spreading him apart to the point where he could no longer think about the throbbing, tightening pain in his chest; could only feel the pleasuring touch of Takao’s warmth.   Warmth spread deeper inside of him, spreading it lights towards all parts of his soulless body, and bringing him alive just for a moment to feel.  Feeling the burning heat of Takao’s warmth colliding with Midorima’s frozen core.  The strings are torn as Takao tenderly holds Midorima in his hands, and yet he mends the broken strings with his words of love, trust, promises to never stray.   Desperately he clings as he make sures that his warmth will never leave him, and he claims Midorima for his own, and across Midorima’s skin he left his marks.  Marks that burn into Midorima’s flesh, and it burns through all three layers of skin, through the trained muscle, through the tough bone, and shatters his soul--shaking his entire core.  The core, the frozen core, which is tingingly, and crying out towards the fake warmth because it knows that it will never be enough.  

 

Takao’s warmth is not enough.  It spreads and consumes Midorima’s entire body, and sets his body on fire with the strength of Takao’s love, devotion, and passion; however, it will never be enough to thaw the ice that has surrounded his heart.  

 

Standing outside of Midorima’s temporarily refuge is a pair of honey-colored iris which can see their shadows dance across the bright room.  A fist tightens, nails digging into the palm of his hand, and causing red marks to appear with small droplets of blood; however, the pained is ignored.  His breath can be seen in the cold night air; however, one would have to be very close to notice the shakiness of his breath.  His heart is trembling, breaking inside of him as he watches the shadows gracefully dance across the walls; however, his mind tells him that he is the cause of this, which is a fact that he could never deny.  Despite the pain he has given, which was quickly returned to him, his feet moved forward into the cold night.  With a raised tightened fist, a small silver bracelet shining in the moonlight,  he knocks on the door loudly, and is not going to waver from his decision.  

 

Knocking echos throughout Takao’s  home, and he quickly dresses, “I’ll be right back, Shin-chan.” 

 

Midorima moves across the crumpled, dirtied sheets as he glances at Takao and nods his head.  He sits up slowly as he watches Takao leave the bedroom, and he slowly looks around for his clothes which are scattered across the room.  He slowly stands up, ignoring the throbbing pain in his hips, and the first item of clothing that belongs to him is his white button-up shirt.  As he slowly extends his hand towards  his discarded shirt his attention is gained by a small silver bracelet that hangs loosely on his wrists.  Droplets of water quickly descend on the silver bracelet as Midorima can read the date inscribed, and after he quickly picks up his shirt he wipes away the source of water.  He attempts to dress quickly; however, his nimble fingers are clumsy as the buttons slip from his fingertips.  Midorima suddenly looks at the closed bedroom door as he could hear the loud noises on the other side, and it loudness of the sound intensifies as the source intrudes further into Takao’s home.  

 

The bedroom door is flung open, crashing on to the wall, the door knob making a small and unnoticeable dent.  Kise Ryouta stands there with his eyes wide with shock, and pain as he stares in the bedroom; his heart tightens up as he sees Midorima standing by the bed with his shirt half-button up, and he can see the hickeys which adorns Midorima’s skin.  He glares at the dirtied bed, and his nose twitches in disgust as he could smell the scent of sex filling the room. However, the smell of the room does not stop him from stepping inside, and as soon as he does a firm hand is placed on the his shoulder and pulls him back.  However, Kise twists his torso and sends a punch flying towards Takao’s face, and yet Takao was able to dodge the punch, but he removes his hand from his shoulder. 

 

Kise stares up at Midorima, who stands there motionless, “Mido--no… Shintarou, we are going home. Now.”

 

“He is going to stay here with me,” Takao intervenes as he stands up to Kise. 

 

Kise glares daggers at the man, and the ambiance in the room suddenly turns dark as a deep chuckle escapes his lips, “I don’t know if I should wait for a horse to come and kick you or if I should beat the shit out of you myself.”  Takao opens his mouth to responds; however, Kise ignores him and gives Midorima his undivided attention, “Shintarou,” Kise calls softly as he slowly treads towards the other side of the room as if he was approaching a small animal.  “Will you listen to me, please.” 

 

Midorima slowly backs away as Kise gets closer to him, and when Kise has him pinned to the wall he looks down at the floor.  Midorima sighs heavily, “We agreed that the relationship between me and that skank was fake, and only for the public eye to boosts that actress popularity to get a role.  I feel nothing for her, and I told our agency that I would not do anything more than holding hands or kissing her for photos.  However,  my agency decided that it was not enough, and told me to take her to my home.  Yes, I did take that girl into our home, and despite the fact that I was drunk I did take that girl into our bed.”  Midorima flinches, and poorly attempts to push Kise away; however, Kise holds onto his hands tightly as their matching pair of silver bracelets momentarily collided into each other as they swing loosely of their wrists.  “I know that I hurt you, and please believe me, when I woke up the next day I wanted to just go and die.  However, I could not stand the thought of not living with you… of not being with you,” Kise slowly reaches out for Midorima’s face and the palm of his hand tenderly cradles his cheeks as his honey eyes stared deeply into Midorima’s eyes.  “I hope you believe me, and I am truly sorry for what I did, and it will never happen again.  I will never hurt your heart,” his left hand slowly reaches down towards his bare chest, and is placed upon his heart, “I will never make you want to leave our home.  I am nothing without you, Shintarou.”

 

“Shin-chan,” Takao calls out nervously from the other side of the bed.  Midorima glances his gaze towards him as Kise glares at the black-haired man. “You can always stay here with me, and I love you more than Kise, if not more than just as much.”

 

“You could never love him just as much as I do, and you should forget about loving him at all,” Kise barks as his eyebrows come together. 

  
The two continue to bicker back and forth, “will the both of you shut up,” Midorima demands faintly, but he has both of their attention.  “I… I am going to go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this work of mine, and if you enjoyed reading it that makes me extremely happy. I attempt to write the usually smut scene in a rather poetic way instead of saying they had sex, but I honestly do not know how I feel about the ending. I feel like this piece is missing something, and I am currently reluctant to post it; however, if I ever figure out whatever it is that is missing than I will surely update it.
> 
> Thank you again for reading, and for readers of my others works thank you again for your patience as I have been uncontrollably absent. 
> 
> Please feel free to leave questions, comments, and/or feedback.
> 
> Sincerely,  
> Symone Nicole.


End file.
